South Park and its characters © Trey Parker and Matt Stone

Damien/Pip. One-shot.

Rated T for South Park language.

Inspired by "I Will Follow You into the Dark" by Death Cab for Cutie


The night was colder than usual. Pip turned up the heat before he joined Damien on the couch and snuggled beneath the fleece blanket. Damien put his arm around the slender blonde and pulled him close. He planted a kiss on Pip's forehead, rubbing his arm that was covered by the silk pajama's sleeve. Pip looked up at Damien and put on a genuine smile. The smile was reserved only for him; only Damien made Pip happy. The anti-Christ leaned forward to take Pip's soft lips. Despite the cold weather, Pip's lips were not chapped. Damien tasted the watermelon flavored balm; something he didn't quite enjoy but tolerated since Pip liked using it. He nuzzled against Pip's long neck, pleased with how warm the human body was. Pip dropped his hands on Damien's broad shoulders. A quiet sigh escaped from his throat.

"Damien," Pip said softly, "Do you ever think we can be together?"

Damien furrowed his brows. He tried to put on a reassuring smile but he knew Pip wouldn't be satisfied with his answer. He said, "We're together now."

"Right, certainly. But you will leave soon and I will be all alone again."

"Pip," Damien said, combing his fingers through the blonde locks that he adored, "Father needs me. If it was up to me, I'll be here all the time. I promise you, as soon as my duty is completed, I won't have to go anywhere anymore."

"When will that be?" Pip asked.

"Uh, well, I need to help bring forth the Apocalypse. It was supposed to happen in 2012 but there is a scheduling conflict with God, and it's been pushed back for, um, a while."

"How long 'a while'?"

"I think we're looking at… a century," Damien answered hesitantly, "at least."

"Oh…" Pip lowered his eyes. "I won't get to be with you until I'm dead."

"Look, don't worry. I'm still visiting you all the time." Damien landed a quick peck on Pip's cheek. He grinned, trying to lighten the mood. "You are never going to get rid of me."

Pip chuckled. He had the laugh of a toddler gasping for air. It could be weird to some people's ears, but Damien thought it was adorable. Sadly, there wasn't much for Pip to laugh about. He was not a happy person. And so, though, Damien wasn't a joker, he tried his best to make Pip laugh and he was glad he had succeeded. Pip nodded and returned a kiss to Damien's jaw.

"You're the only one I have," Pip whispered sincerely.

Damien pulled Pip as close to his body as he could. He wrapped his arms tight around Pip's small frame. He pressed his lips on Pip's face over and over. It was the only thing he knew to do to comfort the Brit. Pip didn't seem to mind his overeager kisses anyway. There was nothing in his power that he could do to improve their relationship. It wasn't like he could drag Pip down to Hell with him. No, that would be selfish.

Damien was, in a way, glad to return to the seventh layer of Hell. It was not freezing like South Park. He didn't understand why anyone would want to live with constant snow. In South Park, there was only winter and July. It wasn't even hot in July, not hot like Hell anyways. Damien strolled his way back home. The seventh layer housed 'Violent' sinners. They shouted angry words at the anti-Christ as he walked past them. Damien was so used to their rambling that it was nothing but background screaming to him. The torture that intrigued Damien the most in his home layer was the 'Wood of the Self-Murderers'. It was a forest composed of suicide cases whose bodies had been transformed into trees. Harpies fluttered close by and pecked at their bodies. The self-murderers, as they were called, all had a face full of twisted sorrow. There was no relief for their pain in Hell. They would only suffer and when the End Day arrived, their souls would incinerate. Damien thought it was just for people who did not cherish their lives.

When he walked into his house, Damien noticed a stack of papers on his coffee table. He took a brief look and saw that they were addendums and amendments to the laws of Heaven and Hell. He didn't want to read them right now. Reading wasn't part of his job description as 'anti-Christ'. Really, why did his father make him read? He flopped down on the sofa and turned on the television. It was another reason why he liked coming back to Hell: it had HBO.

A third reason he liked going back to Hell was because of Kenny McCormick. Kenny walked into Damien's house without knocking and sat down on the floor in front of the sofa. Damien gave him an uninterested glance; he was used to Kenny walking in without being invited in. Kenny had been elected unanimously by God and Satan as a good-will ambassador between the three planes. His duty was to go back and forth between Heaven, Earth, and Hell and make sure that everything was dandy. He had matured through the years and outgrown his lewd obsession with anything sexual. But it didn't mean he didn't like to talk about sex.

"So, did you get laid?" Kenny asked, reaching toward the television and changing the channel. A growl from Damien stopped him cold.

"It's none of your business," Damien scowled. "And don't touch my television."

"Tell me you at least got a blowjob from Pip." Kenny leaned against the foot of the sofa and ruffled his hair. "You see him once every four, five months, and you don't even get any?"

"Not every relationship depends on sex," Damien rebutted. He kicked the back of Kenny's head. "Pip and I are happy the way we are."

"Hey! Ouch!" Kenny rubbed the spot Damien had kicked. He turned around and put his chin on the cushion. With a serious face, he said, "I wouldn't be so sure. Pip's a loner. The guys treat him like shit. He is too weak to defend himself. He needs you, dude. Physically there."

"I know," Damien responded. It wasn't like he hadn't figured it out himself. But he couldn't live up there with Pip. Priests were constantly after him with sharp daggers. If he abandoned his post, his father would be sore. Satan had already told him that he was a fool to fall in love with a human. He should've waited until Pip was dead, his father told him. True, Damien thought, but he didn't want Pip to ever die. The world needed Pip; it just hadn't realized it yet. "I know," he repeated and left it at that.

"What's this?" Kenny asked, flipping through the papers on the table.

"Junk," Damien said. He shifted his weight and shushed Kenny, "Shut up, I'm trying to watch TV."

Kenny, not particularly interested in the movie, folded the papers into airplanes and sent them flying around Damien's house. Most of them caught on fire immediately.

It was April and the ground was still covered in inches of snow. It had been four months since his last visit to Earth. Obama was now the president and Bush was eaten by a pack of wolves during his visit to Alaska. Otherwise, nothing had changed much about the world. South Park, in particular, was the same as he had left it. Damien treaded through the snow and walked up to the stairs that led to Pip's apartment. He could easily teleport himself inside the apartment but he liked the idea of walking in through the front door. It felt like he was coming home to Pip, which it was, and it filled him with warmth that countered the harsh South Park weather. He jiggled with the keys and unlocked the door. The aroma of brewed Earl Grey and freshly baked crumpets filled his nostrils. He scanned the unoccupied living room and walked into the kitchen. A teapot and a plate of half-eaten crumpets sat on the table. It seemed Pip had himself a nice afternoon tea.

"Pip," Damien called, taking a bite out of the crumpet. It was still warm. "Are you here, Pip?"

Damien was sure that Pip usually came home immediately after school. He had to outrun the bullies and didn't have anywhere else to go. Damien put down the crumpet and dusted his hand on his black jeans. He walked out of the kitchen and walked down the hallway. The apartment wasn't that big; Pip should've heard him if he was here. Damien saw that the bathroom door was ajar and pushed it open. Pip slumped over the bathtub with his head resting on the brim. Damien rushed over and grabbed the Brit by the shoulders. He clenched his teeth and resisted shouting out cursed words; summoning a demonic dragon wasn't going to help the situation. Pip had slashed his own wrists repeatedly. A puddle of blood pooled at the tub. The blonde's eyes fluttered half-open. He looked dazed and oddly content.

"Pip!" Damien shrieked. "You idiot! What are you thinking!?"

"Dam… ien," Pip said, his voice hushed and tired. "If I die… I can be… with you."

"No! No! This isn't how it should be! I-I told you I'll do what I can! Why did you have to do this for, Pip! Fuck! Why!"

"I will see… you… in Hell," Pip smiled barely at the literal meaning of his words.

"Y-yeah, I will. I will see you soon," Damien said. He pulled Pip into his arms and cradled the blonde. He stroke Pip's cold cheek. It wasn't right; Pip was supposed to be warm and lively. His cheeks were supposed to be pink from the cold air, not pale like the snow outside. He pressed deep kisses on the Brit's forehead. "This doesn't hurt, does it? I d-don't want you to be in pain."

"It doesn't… if you're… with me."

"I'm here," Damien whispered, "I'm always here. It'll be over soon, Pip. It'll be over soon."

Damien kept Pip close to him and rocked back and forth. He could rush Pip to the hospital and see what the incompetent doctors could do. But he didn't want to. Pip did it because he loved him. It was the greatest gesture of love Pip could ever show him. The least he should do was to comply with Pip's wish. To be honest, Damien wanted it to happen. It really was the only way. As a suicide case, Pip would descend to the seventh layer, exactly where Damien wanted him. He could pull some strings and release Pip from his torture. His father would understand; he could let one soul go. Damien kept in mind to buy the new Elton John CD for his father; a little bribe never hurt. He ran his long fingers through Pip's locks. He whispered words of comfort in his ear. He did something he never thought he would do: he watched Pip die.

When he was sure that Pip's life had faded and his soul had left the body, Damien carried Pip's corpse out of the apartment. He reappeared at the emergency entrance of the hospital and left Pip to the care of the doctors. He tore open the earth crust and dived down to Hell. Pip's soul would wander the earth for a while before it arrived in Hell. It should give him enough time to prepare for Pip's arrival. It was sickening to think that he was welcoming Pip to the Inferno but he wanted Pip to have a good first impression. Hell wasn't all brimstone and fire. It could be fun, especially when it was Christmas or Luau; everyone knew his father threw one hell of a party.

He tidied up his house, not that it needed much cleaning. He swept up the ashes from the planes he had burnt when Kenny was here and took out the trash. There were still papers left on the coffee table and Damien decided that he could get to them later. Right now, he needed to focus to making the place homely for Pip. He also needed to go to the convenience store and stocked up on teas. He cleaned the oven just in case Pip wanted to bake something. In the middle of vacuuming the floor, he checked the time and realized that Pip should be here by now. He left the seventh layer and headed up to the entrance at once.

There was a large group of newcomers. They looked at each other with confusion. Some were angry. Some were sad. Some thought it was funny that they were in Hell. All of them asked the same question that everyone before them had asked.

"Mormons," Kenny answered with a grin, tapping his pen against the clipboard. "Better luck next time. Moving on…"

"Kenny!" Damien shouted as he ran up to the podium.

"Ladies and gentlemen, may I present to you the anti-Christ?" Kenny gestured to Damien and did a mock bow.

"You're all doomed," Damien grumbled half-heartedly. He scanned the large crowd, trying to locate the British blonde. There were quite a bit of British folks and blondes, and they all looked alike from where he was standing. He turned to Kenny. "Have you seen Pip?"

"Pip?" Kenny opened his eyes wide. He took a look at his roll list and flipped to the next page. "Pip died? When!?"

"Have you seen him or not?"

"N-no, I haven't. But… damn! That sucks! I can't believe Pip is dead… How did he go?"

"Let me know if you see him," Damien said. He stepped down from the stage after he gave the crowd a menacing look.

He hurried down to the seventh layer. Maybe Pip had already been judged and sent to his punishment. He groaned, not wanting to imagine how Pip would look as a tree. He ran to the Wood and checked the new trees. There weren't any new trees. The old ones moaned and reached out their branches to claw at Damien. He circled the Wood twice but couldn't find Pip amongst them. He did notice that there seemed to be fewer trees than before. Pip should have arrived already. He was stumped. It wasn't like there was traffic on the highway to Hell. They had recently added the two thousandth lane. Damien stormed back at the entrance and stood on the stage next to the podium. Kenny had left his post. His replacement was stammering badly because he thought Damien was here to evaluate his performance. Damien wasn't in the least interested in the greeter. He watched the crowd dispersed accordingly and waited for the next group to come. No sign of Pip. He waited for the next-next group. No Pip. The next-next-next group. Pip-less.

"What the hell?" Damien shouted when the last group of the day arrived and Pip wasn't here. The greeter yelped and cowered, holding the clipboard above his bald head. Damien yanked the clipboard and looked through the list. There were three Pirrups, but Phillip wasn't among them. He threw the clipboard and it hit the greeter over the head. The frightened man ran off the stage, crying for his mama. He screamed at the crowd and told them of their new role as eternal servants of Satan. The group thinned out. An empty space emerged to accompany Damien. He clenched his fists and tried to figure out what had happened. Maybe, he thought, Pip didn't die. Science was always bringing the dead back to life. Damien stood up. He was returning to earth.

Damien found Pip's cold body at the morgue. He checked Pip's pulse for three minutes and was at last convinced that the Brit was indeed dead. He combed the stray bangs away Pip's forehead and left a loving kiss. The last time he checked, Pip was Catholic. He couldn't possibly be in Heaven. He was also baptized so he shouldn't be in purgatory. Hell was his only destination. Damien wondered if Pip's soul got lost and ended up somewhere he shouldn't, but that was unlikely. Souls were guided to their designated afterlife location. Even if his soul had wandered lost, Pip would automatically be led to Hell. He didn't understand what could have happened. In his seventeen years as a resident of Hell, he had never witnessed anything like it.

Damien materialized at the entrance of Hell. He crossed his fingers – figuratively speaking – and hoped that he would run into Pip. Instead of Pip, he found Kenny literally running into him with frantic breathing. They bumped shoulders and Kenny let a profanity slipped from his tongue.

"Dude, I've been looking all over for you," Kenny said, rotating his shoulder. He pursed his lips and said solemnly, "We gotta talk." He put an arm around Damien and led him away from the newcomers.

"What's going on?" Damien asked as soon as they arrived at the fire pond. Kenny once said that the pond reminded him of Stark's Pond, except it had a lot more fire than ice. "Did something happen while I was gone?"

"Pip killed himself."

"Yeah… I know. I was there."

"What the fuck? You were there?" Kenny frowned and looked like he wanted to give a long speech about how it was inappropriate for the anti-Christ to not do anything while a mortal die. But he didn't. Instead, he said, "Whatever. Pip's in serious shit. Did you read this?" He handed a piece of paper over. Damien recognized the heading was the same as the ones he had left on his coffee table. He felt queasy. He regretted not reading the notices when he had the chance. He lifted the paper over his face and read.

"A notice from God. Effective immediately, all who commit the grave sin of self-murder will be sent to the newly-constructed layer of Hell, Null, where their souls will be," Damien paused. He gritted his teeth and his hand began to crumble the paper. He grumbled, "... will be obliterated without any hope of resurrection. Perhaps in oblivion, they will understand how precious life truly is…"

"He's fucked," Kenny said quietly. "His soul probably got destroyed already."

"No…" Damien growled. He crumbled the paper and hurled it away. It caught on fire as soon as it left his hand and propelled through the air like a meteor. "No! No!"

"I'm sorry, man." Kenny put his hand on Damien's heaving shoulder. He pulled it away immediately when flame threatened to ignite him.

"It's my fault," the anti-Christ shrilled. "I let him die! I wanted us to be together. I didn't do anything to save him. It was me! It was me!"

"It's not your fault." Kenny risked catching on fire and put both hands on Damien. He shook the distraught son of Satan and said, "Calm down, Damien. M-maybe we aren't too late. Let's go to this new place and check it out. Maybe we can still save Pip."

"Pip," Damien muttered, dropping his head down. He palmed his face, shaking his head violently. "Oh… Pip…"

The new layer of Hell had two equipments: a bottomless pit of darkness and a jumping board that extended to the middle of the pit. Damien and Kenny arrived to see the souls of newly admitted suicide cases lined up to get on the jumping board like they were at a swimming pool. The souls stood straight and stared blankly ahead of them. They each had a stoic expression on their face. Unlike the other layers of Hell, Null was embraced in silence, like someone had soundproofed the surrounding and set everyone on mute. There were no cries of pain or suffering. No one moaned. No one complained. No one made a noise. It didn't seem they were even aware that they were about to fall into oblivion. Damien and Kenny stood on the cliff and watched a red-haired lady walked to the edge of the plank until she simply fell off. They watched her fall and fall and fall until they couldn't see her in the dark pit anymore. The next jumper was a chubby Asian man with obvious rope burn on his neck. He too fell without a sound.

Kenny walked to the bookstand and checked the list of names. Damien joined him. They flipped the heavy book to the 'P' section and scanned through the millions of names. Damien never knew so many people had 'Pirrup' as a surname. Kenny was the one who spotted Pip's name. A red line crossed out Phillip 'Pip' Pirrup, indicating that the soul had already been destroyed. Damien stared at the cursive handwriting until it was a blur to his sight.

"I'm sorry, dude," Kenny whispered, closing the roll book.

"You said we can still save Pip," Damien hissed. He tackled Kenny to the coarse ground and wrapped his fingers tight around Kenny's neck. "Where is Pip!? Where is he now!?"

"You aren't mad at me," Kenny said, holding Damien's wrists. It wasn't like Damien could kill him anyways. The blonde would reappear in an hour or so. "You're mad at yourself but – ugh – you shouldn't be."

Damien bit his lips and released Kenny. He pressed his forehead on the ground and bellowed a whimper. Pip killed himself so they could be together. They were supposed to be together. Pip should be brewing some English tea and baking pastries right now. Pip should be sitting on his sofa and watching some lame Lifetime movie. He should be with Damien, not swirling in endless darkness waiting to be erased completely.

"Fuck!" Damien screamed, slamming his fists on the ground. "Fuck! Fuck!" He didn't let tears trail down his cheeks but he was crying inside. He fell on top of Kenny and shouted muffled words into the orange parka. Kenny stroked his back, the only thing he was able to do in his position. He didn't not saying anything. Damien buried his face in Kenny's hood. His scream became the soundtrack for the souls jumping off.

Damien knocked on his father's door. Squeaking of the bed stopped immediately. A light flickered on and heavy footsteps approached. Satan answered the door with his loincloth barely put on. Beads of sweat trickled down the Devil's collarbones. He panted quietly and tried to smile at Damien, even though it looked like his jaw muscles were cramped. Damien tucked his hands into his pockets and looked up at his father.

"I need your help, Father," Damien said.

"Honey, I'm busy right now. Why don't we talk in the morning?" Satan patted Damien's head playfully.

"Ey, Satan! Hurry up and bring your baboon ass back in here," a high voice shouted from inside the house. Damien recognized the voice and furrowed his brows.

"I thought you got rid of him," Damien scolded.

"I know… it's… it's complicated," Satan answered, rolling his eyes. "But let's talk later, okay, sweetheart? Daddy loves you."

Without giving Damien a chance, Satan closed the door. The light turned off again and Satan's footsteps disappeared deep in the house. Rhythmic squeaking resumed promptly, followed by his father's shy groans. Damien considered setting the house on fire, but knew he would be in a lot of trouble if he did. Satan was certainly no help for his quest to revive Pip's soul. Damien walked away and went back home. He stopped by the Wood and saw that more trees had started to disappear. The souls were being transported to Null for elimination. He would've much preferred Pip to be a tree than nothing.

Damien went into his study and pulled out all the rule books he had. He read each one of them without taking a break in between. He learned a lot about the three planes that he didn't know before. For instance, it was against the will of God to eat chocolate muffins. When morning came and he finished the last page of the last book, he came to accept that there was nothing that could save a destroyed soul, not even God. God certainly had the power to recreate the soul, but it wouldn't be the same; a cheap clone at best, a mockery at worst. Damien put his head down. He had calmed down a lot thanks to Kenny, but he was still grieving. Pip was gone forever. Even after the Apocalypse, Pip would still be nothing. Then if Time felt like being a bitch, memories of Pip would soon fade from Damien's mind. No one, in Heaven nor Hell, would remember the British boy. He didn't know what divine good would come to the world if Pip vanished from existence forever. Damien had never despised God's divine plan as much as he did at the moment.

For the rest of the week, Damien alternated spending his time in his study looking for a loophole and watching the suicide souls fall to their doom. Sometimes, he would read the books at Null so he could kill two birds with one stone. He hung on to the thin hope that maybe the roll book made a mistake and Pip's soul had not jumped yet. He kept a constant eye for Pip. Once, he saw a capped boy and bolted up, thinking that it was Pip. Upon closer inspection, he reminded himself that Pip wasn't a 150-lbs Hindu.

"How are you holding up?" Kenny asked, sitting on the rough ground next to Damien.

Damien didn't answer the question. He put down the book and picked up a purple-covered one. He had read it three times already. He could almost mesmerize word-for-word the first pages of the book. Kenny yanked the book out of his hands and threw it away from them. He picked the rest of the books and hurled them across the layer.

"Stop reading those fucking books," Kenny scowled. "You gotta learn to move on, Damien."

"Move on?" Damien looked at Kenny like he had just told a bad joke. "Should I remind you that I'm responsible for the eternal destruction of Pip's soul?"

"Moping won't change anything."

"Do you understand how I feel?" Damien asked. He pointed at his chest, over where his heart was. "Do you know the hollowness I feel? Without Pip, I have nothing. I don't even have anything to remember him by."

"No, I don't understand, and I can't imagine how it much it sucks for you. But, dude, you can't do this to yourself. You can't blame yourself for what happened. You didn't change the rules. You didn't know. I know for a fact that if you knew what was gonna to happen, you wouldn't have let Pip do it."

"I shouldn't have let him do it either way," Damien grumbled.

"Listen, I know it's hard, but you're strong. C'mon, you're the freaking anti-Christ! You'll get over it. You don't have to forget about Pip, but you'll have to get on with your life." Kenny shook Damien by the shoulder. "Why don't you go up there and say your good-byes?"

No one came to Pip's funeral. Damien wouldn't be surprised if no one knew that the Brit had sliced himself up a week ago. Pip lived alone; his sister and brother-in-law were still in England. Damien made a mental note to pay the blacksmith and his wife a visit. He stood at the entrance of the church, gazing at the wooden doors that barred him from Pip's funeral procession. He walked up the steps and didn't make it far enough before his skin started to peel off like when vampires were exposed to the sun. He hissed and stepped down quickly. In the snow ground, his wounds healed. He wanted to see Pip one last time before he was laid to rest. Since it wasn't possible, Damien figured he could dig up Pip's grave afterward. It was disrespectful, but Damien thought Pip wouldn't mind his action. He probably wanted to see Damien too. The church door opened and Father Maxi stepped out with a Bible in hand. He noticed Damien and lifted up the cross he was wearing.

"Wretched creature! How dare you come to the House of God! Stand back," Father Maxi barked, waving his cross around.

"That only works on vampires," Damien grumbled.

"Be gone, demon! Return to the pit of damnation!" Father Maxi took a bold step forward. He looked like he was ready to throw down with the anti-Christ.

"Relax, pompous ass." Damien threw his hands up. He backed away and reached the sidewalk. "I'm going, I'm going."

"Leave and do not come back!" Father Maxi followed Damien to the sidewalk.

"Hey, priest guy, I got a question for you." Damien had a change of mind and turned around. Father Maxi gripped his cross tight and lifted it high in the air. Damien glanced at the shining cross and repressed the urge to light it on fire. "How do you kill the anti-Christ?"

"The Lord will defeat you," Father Maxi answered. It wasn't what Damien wanted to hear.

"No, yeah, I know that. But I mean, if it was just between you and me, and you have to kill me, what can you do?"

"I will banish you with the Seven Daggers of Megiddo."

"Cool," Damien said, nodding his head, "you got them with you?"

"What trickery is it?" Father Maxi narrowed his eyes. He stared hard at Damien through his square glasses.

"It's not a trick. I just want to know if you got the daggers or not. If you do, use them now. If you don't, mind telling me where I can find them?"

"I will not fall for your deceits, demon!" Father Maxi shouted. He shoved the Bible in Damien's face and commanded, "Leave! Leave now!"

Damien did leave, but not before he ignited Father Maxi's Bible. It was amusing to watch the priest try to stomp out the fire. He slipped through the crack and landed at the entrance of Hell. He stopped by the library to look up the Megiddo daggers. Luck would have it that no one knew where they were. At least, no one in Hell knew where they were. Why did he think the location of the one thing that could kill him would be accessible to him in a public library? Damien felt like he had lost his mind. He returned home and watched sixteen hours of HBO. He watched Constantine and growled at the description of Hell. His home happened to be a lot nicer than what Hollywood movies portrayed it to be. Kenny came in at the middle of the movie. He took his usual seat on the floor and looked up at Damien.

"You feeling better?" Kenny asked. He glanced at the battle sequence on the television screen and commented, "Woah, sick!"

"Yes," Damien answered, "I won't suffer for much longer."

"Huh?" Kenny raised an eyebrow. He scrutinized the anti-Christ and tried to read his body language. Damien stayed slump on the sofa, not moving. "What are you saying?"

"There is nothing I can do to help Pip anymore. I've learned to accept it." Damien glanced down at Kenny and pulled a weak smile. "You were right… it's time to move on."

"I'm glad you got that through your head." Kenny patted Damien's thigh and gave it a playful pinch. Damien responded by kneeing him in the neck. Kenny grinned, happy that Damien was back to his old self. He sat back and enjoyed the movie with Damien, not knowing that the anti-Christ had seen it three times already and knew the plot like the back of his hand. Damien wasn't even watching anymore; he was just staring.

Kenny found Damien standing at the ledge of the jumping board. He was holding up the line but no one behind him was getting impatient. Kenny pushed through the souls, unintentionally sending a few souls into the endless pit. He grabbed Damien by the elbows and tried to pull him back to the cliff. Damien turned his head and smiled softly. He fought against Kenny's grip and stumbled closer to the edge. Kenny threw his arms around Damien's waist and used his weight to drag Damien away. In terms of physical strength, Damien wasn't as strong as Kenny. Fortunately, he had demonic power. His eyes glowed and Kenny was knocked away to the cliff.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Kenny shouted, running back on the board. Damien knocked him back again and sent him further away. Kenny got the hint and stood at the edge of the jumping board. "Are you out of your mind? What's this going to solve?"

"I'll stop hurting," Damien answered. He turned around and extended his arms out. "I don't want to forget what happened. I promised Pip that I'll be with him. I'm just fulfilling my promise."

"You aren't going to meet Pip again even if you do this."

"We'll exist together in non-existence."

"W-what about your dad and your duty? Are you going to throw your life away?"

"Kenny," Damien sighed, "I'm the anti-Christ. I was born to die. I am destined to be killed in a battle against Jesus. Do you know what is going to happen to me after that?"


"I will become nothing." Damien looked over his shoulder at the pit. "Pip and I… weren't going to be together forever no matter what. But if I do this, then we have a chance. I don't know what's waiting for me on the other side… I really hope it'd be Pip. But if he isn't, then I guess… I will be happy at least knowing that I did something. Because, damn it, I don't want to live without Pip."

"Don't do this, dude," Kenny whispered. "Pip wouldn't want you to."

"I know…" Damien dropped his arms. "This is what I want… and I think that's a pretty damn good reason to do it."

"Shit, Damien!" Kenny stepped on the board and Damien took a step back. "Come back!"

"You're a good friend, Kenny, I'm glad I met you."


Damien smiled before he leaned back. He fell off the jumping board, it wobbled under his weight. As he fell, he saw Kenny kneeling at the edge and trying to reach him. He waved at Kenny moments before darkness engulfed him. Maybe it was because he had a physical body that the process was extremely painful and long. He felt the matter in his body disintegrating. He looked over and saw his arm disappearing, starting from the elbow. He felt himself losing an eye then his nose, and eventually his entire face. Once his physical body had finished decomposition, Damien was whole again as a soul. Then the process started over again. It hurt less the second time. He would even say it was kind of soothing, like falling asleep on a fluffy bed. He saw himself turning into crystallized particles; the particles floated upward toward while the rest of him continued to fall. He knew his father would be very sore when he learned the news. He probably had upset the balance of the universe with what he was doing. He didn't worry too much about it. They could always find a new replacement; after all, he was, what, the fourth or the fifth anti-Christ. They really needed to make anti-Christs harder to kill.

He was surprised and pleased to know that Null was pulling his memories out of his head. It was probably what God meant when he said for them to understand how precious life was. He saw his whole life replayed before his eyes. He saw his first day of kindergarten and the brunette that he turned into a manbearpig. He saw his first bicycle. He saw his father and Saddam having intercourse; it was still disgusting to him. He saw the apple with a worm in the center. He saw the first soul he had greeted. He saw Cartman's birthday party. He saw his first kiss with Pip. He couldn't tell if it was a memory or the real thing but he heard Pip's giggle. He smelled Earl Grey on Pip's breath. He tasted the watermelon lip balm. He felt Pip's tender kiss on his lips. He saw Pip's soft smile. He smiled too. He reached out his hand and touched Pip's cheek. A sense of relief washed over him.



The End

Boyue's Note: Ah! Not the most original of plot, but I liked it and I hope you liked it too... I originally intended it to be a multi-shots but got too lazy for it. xDD;;


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